Blue
by Yugao
Summary: He taught her not to cry. ShikamaruIno deathcentric drabble


_**Blue**_

**_Yugao_**

_**Summary: **_He taught her not to cry.

_**Author's Note: **_I used to see this quote day after day, etched on my seatmate's desk at the Ateneo, and so I decided to just copy it into my notebook - a plotbunny was soon born, but it was neglected. This is ShikamaruIno, sort of, but the central theme is death. So it's sort of like portraying Shikamaru as the person who loves her the most, but she never notices it - she just sees him as a friend, and in this case, a confidant for her loss. Please read and review and I won't feel entirely useless... just kidding!

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own Shikamaru, Ino, Asuma, or the quote I found on the desk.

* * *

_And I know blue_

_Only blue_

_Lonely blue_

* * *

Everything was the same as always, despite the fact that it seemed to him like things were going by so quickly. The same trees, the same fences, the same shops along the pathway, the same cracks in the sidewalk. He couldn't believe it. The past few days he felt as if the world was spiraling uncontrollably before his eyes, and that there was no chance he'd be able to keep up with what was happening around him. He felt stuck in slow motion, while the world was moving way too fast. The feeling wasn't a comfortable one - he was the kind of person who thrived on the routine, and the sudden twists of fate had him wondering what exactly was going on. He didn't like that at all. He wanted to be in the know, and it was difficult to keep track of things this way. 

That day, yet another thing had changed - this he noticed as he walked past the same place he had passed by each day since he was old enough to walk. The Yamanaka Flower Shop. Its usual display of bright, vibrant-colored flowers were still fresh and shown behind the glass. The sign was as always, bold black characters against the stark white. The only thing that made it different, actually, was the fact that the little sign on the door that usually read "open" and bid customers inside, was now reading "closed". Despite the apple-cheeked caricature beside the word CLOSED, Shikamaru somehow didn't think that was something to be so happy and smiling about.

A new scowl on his face, he decided that it would be all right if he waited out the rain with a friend - if she was in, of course. He knew she was. There hadn't been any talk of a mission for her, and he knew her parents were away - her father on a mission, and her mother on business elsewhere. She was the only one to keep shop - though, obviously, there was none that day. He peered through the glass casually to see if she was inside, and noticed that someone was there, behind the counter. Her back was turned to the door as she was arranging flowers in a vase, but he knew that long, cascading white-blond hair anywhere. His scowl dissolved into a smile, and then he pushed the door open, the telltale tinkling of the bells ushering him in.

"I'm sorry, but we're closed," she said without turning around. She'd only heard the bells, and had not looked up at all. Shikamaru walked closer, towards the counter, where she was arranging a bouquet of white lilies in a beautifully woven basket. The sight of the flowers disturbed him, as the sound of her voice did. It was rather raspy, quite unlike the voice he was accustomed to hearing out of her - high-pitched and shrilly, especially when she wanted something done for her as soon as possible. He knew that there was something wrong. Though he knew exactly what it was, he wasn't about to jump to conclusions. He reached the desk and eyed the bell on the counter. After a moment, he rang it wordlessly as he looked up to see if she would react.

She did. She turned around, her face contorted angrily, as she raised her voice and yelled, "Listen, I'd thought that the 'closed' sign and what I just would've clued you in enough - Shikamaru!" her surprise was evident as she stood there, slightly open-mouthed. The basket of lilies she had been arranging dropped to the floor in her surprise. It was then that he got a good look at her - her usually neat ash-blond hair was unkempt and slightly damp, especially those short strands by the sides of her face. Her eyes, usually so bright and vibrant, were rather dulled and red-rimmed. She looked as if she had been crying, and Shikamaru felt a sigh come up. So she knew.

"Yes, Ino. It's me," he said sardonically, trying his hardest to smile and not make it look so forced. But he knew that when he saw her like this, that was impossible. Instead of forcing his smile, he instead looked down at the smooth, polished counter, noticed the flowers she had dropped, and quickly picked them up. He set them on the counter that separated them, and he was just about to look up to see her when he felt her arms encircle him tightly. He couldn't do anything but hug her back in consolation as she started to sob on his shoulder. He winced. He wasn't the best at consoling people, he knew that much. But if she needed him, then he was going to try. "Ino... don't cry."

The words only served to sadden her even more. Her tears trickled down her cheeks and onto his sleeve, as she whispered through sobs, "Shikamaru... and to think I yelled at you for disturbing me, when in truth I needed you the most... only you would understand this. But why does it happen? He was one of the kindest, gentlest people I'd ever met." The words she spoke sent pangs of sadness to his heart, and he knew that even though he had always wanted to hear those words from her, now they didn't seem so beautiful anymore. He held her tighter, sharing her pain. Finally, he spoke again, wanting to let out all that he felt, as well.

"They say that if a person dies, and you cry, it is because you feel sorry for yourself. It isn't because you feel sorry for the person who'd passed away. Sensei does not feel sorry for himself; he cannot feel it anymore. If he did, he wouldn't feel that way, because he died protecting the people he cared for in life. So if you cry, it isn't because you feel sorry for our sensei, but because you feel sorry for yourself, because of your pain from his death," he said quietly as he let her go. He smiled wryly as he wiped a tear that had begun to fall down Ino's cheek. He added, "I know you, Ino. I know you're too proud to feel sorry for yourself. Asuma-sensei would not have wanted you to cry for his sake."

Outside, he knew, it was raining. From there he heard the loud peals of thunder, the sound of shattering glass made when rain hit the roof. He stood there, watching her; she stood there, as well, wiping the tears that had welled up in her eyes. It was as if they were suspended in infinity, and neither wind nor rain could destroy the simple sad beauty of that moment, forever captured in their memories. Finally, Ino managed a smile as she strained to keep her voice even. Slowly, she replied, "I promise I won't cry."

"That's the Ino I know," he answered, smiling, as he held his hand out to her. She took it, and slowly made her way from behind the counter towards him. She gave him another hug, and despite everything, there was still a sad sort of melancholy hanging in the air. He eyed the white lilies on her desk, and she noticed that he was looking off - she followed his gaze and saw the flowers, as well. She smiled slowly, and whispered something he didn't hear. He grunted, asking wordlessly what she'd said, and she repeated it.

"When the rain stops, will you help me bring these to him?"

"Even if the rain never stops, Ino."

_**Author's Note: **_I know I haven't been writing for quite a while, and I know you're probably ticked off at me for it. But I hope you still enjoyed this. Thanks for your time.


End file.
